The Missing Morgan
by Evanescent Darkness
Summary: (NEW CHAPPIE and first chapter updated!) Sunny finds out she has a twin brother than went missing when she was four years old. She goes on a search to find him, but will she? (Teen RP fic) R&R pleez
1. Default Chapter

The Missing Morgan  
  
I always felt a part of me was missing; I never knew it was true.   
  
My mom says I'm an only child, but I never believed her. Last Thursday I found out something that changed my life.  
  
"Mom, why did we have to clean out the garage today? There are so many better things I could be doing!" I yelled at my mom. She was always nit-picking and wanting to clean something. Last week, it was, "Let's clean the basement!" Thursday, I guess, she just felt like cleaning the garage.   
  
"Savannah, we don't even have room to park our car in here! Besides, the more help we have cleaning, the faster it gets done," she explained.  
  
I picked up a box and put it outside, and dropped it, landing with a clank. "Oops..." I hoped that wasn't an expensive vase or anything.  
  
"I'm going to take a break. I'll be back out in a minute," my mom told me. She walked inside.  
  
Yeah, she just left me there, hoping I would clean it up all by myself. "Thanks."   
  
I picked up an old box with scribble I couldn't read on top of it. I pulled up a dusty lawn chair and sat down. As I opened the box, a spider crawled out from it. I jumped back, startled, then squished it with an old boot. I sat back down and continued to open the box. There was a ton of old pictures, evidently of my great-grandparents or something. Then I saw a smaller box, labeled "Savannah and..." I couldn't read the writing. It looked like my dad's writing, but I couldn't tell for sure.   
  
I opened the box and saw many baby pictures of me in it. I flipped through the pictures, and found one of me and a little boy, who looked just like me, sitting on the back porch of my old house in South Carolina. I suddenly got a weird feeling in my stomach. It was probably a cousin of mine. We looked just alike, and we we're probably three years old, or so when the picture was taken. We had ice cream all over our face, and we had an arm around each other. I never knew I had a boy cousin my age though. I thought I only had one about six years older than me. I decided to take the picture in my house and ask my mom.  
  
***  
  
"Mom, can I ask you a question?" I walked over to the couch where she was sitting, drinking her tea and watching soaps.  
  
"Sure, honey, what is it?" She gently placed her tea on a coaster, and eyed me carefully.  
  
I sat down beside her, and showed her the picture. "Who's this? Is he a cousin I didn't know about or something?"  
  
My mom's face turned pale and she quickly turned off the TV. She looked as if she had seen a flying goat. She then cleared her throat and sat up very straight. "Honey, let me go get your father. I'll be right back." She stood and abruptly walked to her room, opening the door to go inside, then closing it. I could hear them talking quietly, as if a big secret was about to come forth. I wondered what was going on.   
  
Finally, my mom walked out, my dad trailing close behind. They both sat down beside me. Silence. My dad finally broke it.   
  
"Savannah, we knew one day we were going to have to tell you this, and we're going to be truthful."  
  
Uh oh, I thought. My dad only calls me "Savannah" when he's about to give me a serious talk. I wasn't looking forward to what was about to be said.  
  
My mom held up the picture in front of me. "Savannah, this boy is Mark, Mark Morgan. He was kid-napped, so we think, and went missing when he was four years old. No one has seen him since."  
  
"So is he like my cousin or friend or something?"  
  
"Not exactly, Sunny. He's...he's...you're brother. You're twin brother."  
  
I was in full on shock. My mouth dropped about twenty feet below me. A wave of adrenaline hit me like a rush of cold water. I didn't expect this. I had no words. A million questions raced through my mind, and a million reasons why I had felt so lonely when I was a kid. I still had one important question. "Why didn't I remember this?"   
  
"Because, ironically, two nights after, you were playing on the playground and you fell off the jungle gym, and hit your head so hard, you got amnesia. So, we didn't want you to question us about the boy in the pictures and about the room with so much stuff in it next to yours, we just box up all his things and put them away." Tears came slowly to my mom's eyes.  
  
"It's been eleven years since he went missing. He went missing on March 4, 1992," my dad stated. He got up and opened the cabinet in the TV stand. He pulled out a large brown envelope, labeled, "Mark Chandler Morgan – Unsolved Mysteries." My heart dropped. My brother was even on TV. My dad handed the envelope with the tape to me. "You need to watch this; maybe it will bring back some memories."   
  
***  
  
I put the tape in my VCR and pressed play. I sat back on my bean-bag chair and watched the host appear on the screen.  
  
"Hello, and welcome to Unsolved Mysteries. I'm your host, Robert Stack. Tonight, we will look at a case where five year-old son, Mark Chandler Morgan, went missing without a trace."  
  
It showed pictures of my brother, and even some home video clips of us playing in the back yard. It made me so sad to know I could have a twin brother out there right now, alive, breathing, and running about. Even if he was dead, I wish I knew where he was and how he got there. No wonder my whole child hood was depressing. I had no brother to share the fun with. But I was determined to do one thing: I was gonna find my brother, dead or alive, and even if it took my whole life, I was going to find him.   
  
***  
  
I decided not to let my parents find out about my plan. I was going to research as much as I could on Mark, and then try to put the clues together to find him. As soon as I got the clues, I would make a date to leave. I would leave early in the morning, before my parents even got up. Just so my parents wouldn't worry, I would write them a note and leave it where they would find it. Now, I had to get the clues.  
  
I searched every library for old newspapers, magazines, internet articles on missing persons, and even my own house. I turned Ocean Shores upside down looking for clues to the suspect of my brother's kid-napping and where I could find him. I finally had enough information and a few suspects to leave home and journey out. I would leave before dawn.  
  
***  
  
Three AM in the morning, I packed my things into a huge leather suitcase. I crammed the clues and info on my brother and his case into my purse. Grabbing a sheet of note book paper and a pen, I sat down on my bed and wrote my parents a note:  
  
Mom & Dad,  
  
I love you very much, and when you find that I'm gone, please don't worry; I'm perfectly fine. I've gone to find something I lost a long time ago. I promise I will call you when I get to my destination to let you know I'm okay. Much love,  
  
Sunny  
  
It was good enough for me. I picked up my stuff, grabbed my keys and cell phone, and tip-toed quietly down the stairs.   
  
I paused when I passed my parents room, whispering one last goodbye. I resumed my silent pace towards the kitchen.   
  
I placed the note on the counter beside the coffee pot. Unlocking the door first, I put my hand on the door knob and held my breath, listening, making sure my parents weren't awake. Silence and the hum of the refrigerator filled the my ears. Good. I crept slowly out the door, and closed it behind me, being sure not to make a sound.   
  
I unlocked the doors to my Jetta and slung all my junk into the backseat. I closed the back door, and opened the driver's side door and got it. My car still smelled the same from the day before yesterday, like McDonald's. Then I had only been Savannah Alexis Morgan, only child. Now was different.  
  
I slipped the key into the ignition switch and cranked the car. Thank goodness my car was quiet when it cranked up. I put it into reverse and pulled out the driveway. I then put it into drive and pulled away from my house. I turned on my head lights, then looked back at my dark house in the rear-view mirror.   
  
I sighed, desperate to call Otto, but I didn't want to wake him up at this hour. Besides, if I did, then I'd have to tell him where I was going, and he'd have to lie to my parents if they called there looking for me. I wouldn't want him to do that. I decided to wait and call him later on, during the day, so he wouldn't worry.  
  
***  
  
I drove north on interstate 109, towards Kellingston. That was where the first suspect, Edward Walters lived. It was then six AM, and I was getting hungry. My parents would probably wake up within an hour an a half, and find that I was missing. Oh was I going to get in trouble when I got back...if I got back alive, that is. I hoped they wouldn't worry.   
  
The next exit I saw with a restaurant on it, I took it. I took exit thirty-seven to McDonald's. My stomach throbbed with an empty ache. I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday.   
  
I pulled into McDonald's and parked. I walked into the fast food joint, eager for some breakfast. I waited in line behind a tall, plump old man. After he was through ordering, I walked up to the counter.   
  
Greeted by an old Asian lady, she asked for my order. "How may I serve you?"   
  
"An order of biscuits and gravy, with a hash brown and small coke."   
  
"Will that be all?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She gave me my total and a receipt. I stepped to the left, and waited on my food.   
  
I finally got my tray of food, and went to find a seat.  
  
***  
  
My eyes blurred and watered; it had been six hours since I snuck out of the house. I was tired, but still at least a good 45 minutes away from Kellingston.   
  
The interstate was barren early that Sunday morning; everyone was evidently in church. My parents were up by now, for sure. They were probably looking for me right now. A sick feeling overwhelmed me as I thought about how worried my parents probably were. I decided to just go ahead and call them, to let them know I was safe.   
  
I pulled off onto the side of the road, picked up my cell, and dialed home. My mom answered, "Hello?" She sounded like she had been crying.   
  
"Mom, it's me."  
  
"Oh my goodness, Savannah! Where are you? When we woke up this morning, you were gone, and all we found was a note beside the coffee pot."  
  
"I'm okay, don't worry." I didn't know what else to say.   
  
"Savannah, do you know how dangerous this is? Please come to your senses and come home, sweetie; you're not going to find your brother."  
  
That was the wrong thing to say.  
  
"Yes, I will. And I'm not coming home until I find him. Love you, Mom. I have to go now. Bye." I hung up and put the phone down. I wanted to call Otto, but another part of me didn't. I would call him later on that night.   
  
I arrived at Kellingston at 9:47, but had no idea where to begin. I had the address of Edward Walters, but how would I investigate? I decided there was only one way... 


	2. My Brother's Room

I parked down the street from Ed Walters apartment. I popped the trunk of my car. I got out and walked to the back and searched through all the junk, trying to find a wooden piece you stir paint with. (I had previously repainted my room a few days ago.) I finally found it under the spare tire. I jerked it from underneath, stuck it in my back pocket, and headed toward the apartment complexes.   
  
***  
  
As I strolled casually towards the apartments, I spotted a young guy cutting hedges. I wondered if he was related to Mister Walters. I looked up above his head and identified the numbers on the building. On the door next to which he was standing, it said "909." It matched with the address I had found.   
  
There was a bench nearby with a newspaper stand beside it, so I bought a newspaper, and sat. I waited and waited, and as soon as the boy was done with the hedges, he began to walk to the door. I slowly crept up behind him, and pulled the paint stirrer from my back pocket. The boy opened the door and stepped inside and as soon as he began to shut the door, I shoved the wooden stick between the door and the frame. I was impressed at my action, and I thanked God that the boy was wearing headphones.   
  
***  
  
As soon as I was sure he had cleared the living room, I stepped quickly inside and made a dash up the nearest stairs. I peered carefully over the banister, down onto the living room. The boy walked into the living room, heavy metal music jamming. He bobbed his head to the rhythm of the guitars and drums, and even played air guitar a couple times. He finally picked up what looked like a book bag and walked outside. I was taking a guess he was leaving.   
  
I slowly walked to the nearest room and opened the door. It was just a bathroom. I sighed and went to the next room. I cracked open the door and then opened it fully. I gasped when I saw a picture of my brother in a soccer uniform sitting on a dresser. The room appeared to be a boys, but it seemed awfully neat, at least compared to Otto's. I perambulated over to the picture and picked it up. I stroked my finger across the face that looked just like me, only it was on a boy. When I lifted my finger up, dust clung to the tip of it. It seemed that nobody had stayed in this room, maybe not even been in this room, for ages. Tears welled up in my eyes, but as soon as I was about to cry, my heart almost jumped out of my chest. The downstairs door had just slammed. 


End file.
